In the Shadow of the Trees
by Chizwiffle
Summary: Lancelot always knows when Galahad needs someone to talk to...Reveals different sides of our favorite knights! (this one is for you Tri Lorian)


**_In the Shadow of the Trees_**  
**Title**: In the Shadow of the Trees  
**Rating**: G  
**Pairing**: None  
**Summary**: Lancelot always knew when Galahad needed someone to talk to. It's a different side of both knights, you don't usually see.  
**AN**: Drabble requested by a LJ friend of mine (her pennam here is Tri Lorian), which turned out considerably longer than expected. Based on a small vignette she included in her fic _Hide and Seek_.

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"In my home, there was only one tree in the entire village." Lancelot smirked, leaning casually against the tree at which Galahad was currently staring. Many nights his favorite activity had been to stare. The intricate patterns interwoven into the bark would leave him more confused that before, but he refused to give up in the face of nature's designs. He knew the other's noticed, and he had been so sure they would not care. But the smirk on Lancelot's face quickly made him lean against that same tree, sighing in defeat. He smiled, trying to cover the warring emotions flitting across his face. 

"Just one tree?"

"Aye, we had to use it for everything. It was like the ceremonial meeting place." Galahad looked around him, allowing the woods surrounding them to flood his senses. The trees swayed with the early evening breeze, eerie moving shapes that drifted on the abyss of two worlds. The curly-haired knight became still, slightly closing in on himself. Lancelot noticed Galahad's green wandering eyes. He turned slightly, using his arm to motion to the trees enclosing them.

"Funny how one tree can mean so much to so many people. Yet here, there is an abundance of trees, and they are mere plants to the people of this country."

"When I first came here, all these trees were such a shock to me." Lancelot turned back, noting the quiet reaction. The young knight's voice was small, a mere whisper that floated delicately to Lancelot's ears, and his alone.

"So many trees, they...they scared me. It...it felt like a cage; a cage I would never escape." He shuddered, green eyes closing tightly. Lancelot glanced at the surrounding trees, suddenly seeing Britain through Galahad's eyes. Arthur's second in command understood the shock; he had felt it himself, once he overcame his seasickness of course. Galahad continued before he could respond.

"Movement is always limited in the woods, there's no room to ride. To get lost in that endless mass of trees, fearing you may never find your way out, fearing you may never find your way home, fearing you may never remember where home is, fearing that maybe-" Galahad slowly sunk down until he was sitting, wide eyes terrified, trapped in their own horrific nightmare.

"-maybe you wouldn't even remember home. It could be changed, there may be nothing left to go home to..." He suddenly turned to Lancelot, fever-bright eyes desperate; desperate for some palliation, some extenuation, some assurance that his fears were a mere tree among the wilderness.

"Fearing that I may be living for something that doesn't even exist anymore...where would I be then?"

It was then that Lancelot's world collided with Galahad's, both souls joining with stunning, vivid clarity. Lancelot followed Galahad, sliding down the trunk to a sitting position. He stared intently at the last rays of the setting sun, streaking the sky myriad shades of color over their makeshift camp. The other knights went about their business; pretending not to notice the two sitting at the fringe of woods: at the fringe of fear and insanity, where the trees threatened to pull all remaining stability swiftly away. It was the point where two separate worlds clashed, chaotic and strangely settling. Finally Lancelot spoke, his voice as quiet as their youngest's, all sarcasm completely removed.

"My grandfather hanged himself from that same tree, in the center of our village." Galahad's head snapped up at the soft confession, but Lancelot continued to stare at the tree across from him. "He chose to hang himself from our most sacred communal place, where such happy gatherings always occurred." Galahad turned, eyes full of pity for his companion.

"I'm sorry Lance...what a shock it must have been for you-" Lancelot shook his head.

"My grandfather chose his own fate. He chose to take his life on a symbol of happiness within the village. For him, it was the mark of his death." Lancelot finally turned to Galahad once more. Galahad finally understood the light in Lancelot in Lancelot's eyes, the light that made him who he was.

"But what about all the festivities held for a new child? Or the ceremonies in the coming of age for a young boy? How about the union between two hearts beneath that same tree?" His hand absently brushed a curl from Galahad's face almost for emphasis. He turned away once again, leaning his head back against the bark.

"That tree made me realize just how much freedom each soul actually has." Galahad scoffed, anger immediately bubbling up at the mention of a supposed freedom.

"If this is freedom, I would hate to see imprisonment," he remarked. Lancelot smirked, always amused at Galahad's temper. He nodded towards the woods behind them.

"What do these trees mean to you Galahad?" Galahad turned, brow furrowed, silently questioning Lancelot's sanity. "Did you not just say they were like a cage; a cage you would never escape? Did you not profess the fear of being lost within these trees?" Galahad cringed, Lancelot's blunt tone making him feel worse than before; he could only nod. Lancelot turned and motioned towards Tristan. "What do you think these woods mean to Tristan? Do you think he even broods on these trees?"

"How would I know? We all have our own different view of the world." Galahad sighed, leaning his head back against the rough bark as well. Lancelot turned, and his hand nudged Galahad's shoulder.

"Exactly! It's the choices we make. We all have the freedom to make our own choices and have our own opinions. We may be forced to serve Rome for 15 years, but we have the choice of making those years the best years of our lives. Don't you see? My grandfather chose to end his life at that tree, while so many others choose to begin their lives there. It is all in how you view things. That is the freedom that no one can take from you. Keep your freedom of opinion, your freedom to dream; it will not be taken, unless you allow it."

Galahad glanced out to Gawain, watching the blonde knight joke around happily with Bors. Lancelot followed their youngest's line of vision.

"If you had the choice to start over, and never come here, would you do so? Would you rather have the freedom to continue your life without this indenture, and have never created the bond of friendship you share with Gawain? Could you conscientiously take that back?" Galahad drew in a sharp breath, and Lancelot knew that the knight finally understood. Lancelot placed an arm about Galahad's shoulders.

"I know you miss your family. I miss mine as well, my twin brothers will be of age by now, and my sister," he clasped his lion pendant tightly, "she is probably married already." He looked down, eyes full of the washy trails of reminiscent tears. "I don't even know what they look like anymore..." he mumbled, so quiet that Galahad almost did not hear it. Lancelot sighed, but immediately shook himself out of the train of thought. He continued steadfastly.

"But I was not there to see it. I was not there to be a part of their festivities beneath the tree. I am part of another life right now. And for right now, you have to focus on making the life you are living worth every minute of it." Galahad smiled, a small smile, but one of sincere gratitude, taken from the deepest place in his heart.

"It could still be all a dream now though. My family may not be there anymore. It could all just be a vision, a memory, kept alive merely because of me. They could all be gone, and I would be here, and never had the chance to say goodbye. If there is no life for me back home, what would I be living for then?" he asked, unanswered question still nagging, drawing the worry into his eyes. Lancelot hugged Galahad closer, a reassuring hug, and pulled the knight to his feet. He smirked as if the answer were obvious.

"Then you would be living your life."

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